


They Say There's a Wizard who Lives in the Mist

by stars_will_fall



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Howl's Moving Castle AU, M/M, will add more characters as they appear - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24705430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stars_will_fall/pseuds/stars_will_fall
Summary: Martin lives a fairly lonely life, making hats for his small family business, but that's all about to change when he meets the wizard everyone has been buzzing about. Martin's life is turned upside down after a run in with an entity known as the lonely and he has to go on a journey to fix things. Jon learns to open up. Martin learns he's capable of loving himself and being loved.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood
Kudos: 18





	They Say There's a Wizard who Lives in the Mist

In all but stature, Martin Blackwood was a small man. His small paycheck paid for groceries and a small flat above the small hat shop in the center of his small town. Here is where he spent the majority of his days, making for a rather small social circle. Blackwood Hatter was his mother’s shop, passed down the family tree for the past couple of generations, but as her health declined, Martin’s responsibilities seemed to grow more and more. Without any close family members, he was sure to fully inherit the shop in a matter of months whether he preferred it or not. For now, he chose not to think too heavily on that possibility.

The sun was just beginning to rise when Martin left his flat and trudged down the creaky wooden steps, hot tea in hand and half-finished pastry held in his teeth. The morning air was crisp and cold, leaving his fingers stiff and sore even before the long day of work ahead of him. Martin struggled slightly to dig through his pocket and pull out the key that would finally let him into the warmth beyond the hat shop door. As he pushed the heavy key into its slot, he realized with dismay that the door had already been unlocked and pushed inside with a soft sigh. Inside, one of his coworkers stood behind the front counter, readying for the day ahead.

“Morning, Martin.” Sasha James was tall and slight, her long black hair falling well past her shoulders. Though she could be a bit sarcastic at times, she was usually quite kind, and Martin appreciated the brightness her humor brought into the shop.

“Morning,” Martin grumbled, pulling the remaining Danish from between his teeth. Despite his usual cheerful demeanor and fairly regular schedule, Martin had never been one for mornings. “Could have told me you were coming in early today. It’s freezing outside.” He tucked the shop key back into his pocket and pushed the door shut behind him with a foot. He flicked the switch closest him on the wall and the lights buzzed quietly as they washed the shop in a warm, yellow glow.

The inside of the shop was small but meticulously tidy with each hat neatly placed upon a shelf or a rack and viewing mirrors neatly polished. Bursts of bright color could be found here and there. A pot of marigolds on the windowsill. A bright blue feather standing proudly in a hat’s brim. Martin’s favorite part of the shop was the stained-glass panel on its front door; when the afternoon sun hit it just right, it lit the room up in gorgeous shades of orange, yellow, and red. Of course, it was rare Martin got to sit and enjoy the cozy comfort of the shop itself. No, Martin spent most of his time away from the sales floor. Rather, his second home was a small, beige, and mostly untidy office located back in their storerooms. Here, he worked on cleanly piecing together whatever new design he’d been handed that month. Blackwood’s hats were known for being pricey, Martin could never afford one himself, but their quality and style was well worth the price. He took a lot of pride in that

“Oh, because you have to walk so far through the chill. Poor Martin must’ve frozen nearly to death on the- what is it, two minute walk down from your flat?” Sasha rolled her eyes fondly and received a soft and half-hearted huff from Martin in return. “Besides, I wasn’t planning on being in this early. Usually, I like to have a walk before coming in. Couldn’t this morning though, not with the castle roaming the mist lately.”

Martin took a sip of his tea and crossed the room, heading straight for his office. He paused to lean against the side of the counter closest to where Sasha was. “What castle? I’ve never seen anything out there but grass, more grass, mountains,” Martin trailed off for a moment, “Oh! And the occasional cow.” Martin had never actually left town to wander down by the mountains. He had no reason to, and everyone had heard the stories growing up.

Supposedly, the mist around the mountains held all sorts of otherworldly terrors from flesh eating worms to vicious, huge wolves that would tear you limb from limb, witches and wizards who could read your mind or start a wild fire with nothing but their eyes. Frankly, Martin didn’t believe in any of it, but you couldn’t be too cautious.

“They say it’s a wizard’s castle,” Sasha said, her voice hushed but excited. She’d always been one to thrive in the presence of a good rumor. “Wizard Jonathan or something of the sort. Plain name for a wizard if you ask me.” She waved her hand in the air as if to wave away the thought. Back on track, Sasha. “Anyway, they say he’s deceptively powerful.”

“I hear he snatches people up on the street,” Martin jumped as hands clasped around his shoulders from behind and looked back to find Tim grinning at him from behind. Martin hadn’t even heard the door open. “Takes them back to that castle of his and eats their brains bit by bit while they’re still alive.” Tim worked sales alongside Sasha, and they had a strange relationship. They were close as anything, but never more than best friends. At least that’s what Martin could gather this week. The will-they-won’t-they story seemed to change day to day. Sasha was firmly on the “won’t they” side of things, but Tim was nothing if not stubborn. Martin could hardly imagine having someone look at him the way Tim looked at Sasha and certainly could not imagine having enough of a footing to turn someone like that down. Of course, Martin didn’t exactly have many friends outside of work so the chances of finding someone like that were solidly stacked against him to begin with. The thought left him feeling a little bitter which in turn filled him with a healthy amount of guilt. If Tim and Sasha were happy with their arrangement, good for them!

“Look, I love fairytales as much as the next person, but I really doubt a wizard is going to come take me from the streets to eat my brain.” This came out as more of a question than Martin had intended. “Wait, and he’s meant to be a wizard? Not, like, a zombie?” Strange.

“No, definitely a wizard.” Tim did a half shrug and leaned forward; a bit closer to Martin’s face than he would strictly prefer. “I heard he prefers interesting people. So, maybe you have nothing to worry about.” Sasha punched Tim’s shoulder hard enough to make him wince and pull back. She hissed that he should be nicer. “He knows I’m just joking around! I’m just messing with you, Martin.”

“You’re so kind.” Martin leveled him with an unimpressed look. “Well, I think that’s probably my cue to retreat. You know where to find me if you need me.” With that, Martin left Tim and Sasha to their playful bickering and gossip and got to work. He had a few hats to finish detailing and hoped to start the bodies of several others. It was best to get started as soon as he could.

Martin worked diligently through the day, allowing himself to hum quietly as he pulled stitches through the stiff cotton of whichever hat he was working on. It did little to make up for the general quiet in his office, especially when he could hear all the laughing and chatter that came from the sales floor day in and day out. He knew he wouldn’t ever be much help out there. He’d heard plenty of complaints from his mother about it in the past. Martin you’re too kind to people. You’re too naïve. You’d let just anyone walk all over you out there. We’d never sell a single hat; you’d be too busy giving them all away for any old sob story. She was probably right of course, but he could hardly see a problem with being too kind. It was better this way anyway. He was good at making hats and he didn’t need anyone to distract him from that.

When five o’clock rolled around and the sun was low in the sky, Martin finished the last stitch on the hat he was currently working on. It was a lovely blue color he’d helped pick out himself and when it was finished it would all be topped off with peacock feathers and navy trim. He’d just put the hat away on a rack when he heard a quiet knock at the door and Sasha let herself into the office.

“Hey, we were planning to close up and go out for drinks. Are you interested?” She glanced around the office for a minute, eyes landing on the desk and all the work Martin had managed to get done that day. “I’m sorry about this morning. Tim’s jokes can be a little… distasteful sometimes. We’d really love the company though.”

Martin smiled softly, stretching out against the uncomfortable wooden chair he had been saddled with. Times like these, he appreciated Sasha the most. “It’s alright. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it.” It was a good thing, probably, that Tim felt comfortable enough to joke around with him. Even if the jabs did get under his skin sometimes. “As for drinks…well, I’d love to, but I’ve still got to get the groceries for mum and make sure she’s all set for dinner. I’m sorry. Next time though?” Martin regretted that he didn’t have more time to spend on himself. For now, even if she didn’t appreciate it, his mother came first. He was sure drinks with Tim and Sasha was plenty of fun, he’d just never been able to fit it into his schedule. He silently chastised himself for thinking maybe his life would improve once she was gone.

Before long, it was back into the chilly afternoon air for him. His wide leather jacket did little to keep out the cold, especially as he wove his way between the nearby shops and to the small market where he liked to shop. Martin couldn’t help but think how strange the usually familiar alleyways looked as he passed through them. The sun hadn’t completely set, but shadows seemed to lurk in the corners, and everything was covered in a fine layer of hazy fog. Martin picked up his pace, holding his jacket a bit tighter to his body as he did. Somewhere behind him he heard the creak of a door, heavy on its hinges and glanced behind only to find…nothing? He turned back around just in enough time to run face first into someone’s chest. He pulled back with a frantic apology.

“I-I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Are you alright?” Martin glanced up. In front of him was a man, blonde and much taller than he had any right to be. He wore a lazy smile and something about his eyes made Martin just the slightest bit uncomfortable. When he spoke, Martin could feel himself tense just the slightest.

“Am I alright?” He laughed, high and carefree. “I’m just fine.” The man looked him over for a moment and his smile widened. “Aren’t you cute. I just love your little sweater. You should come in.”

“Come in,” Martin echoed. He was going to ask exactly where “in” was as he didn’t remember any shops or pubs having entrances along this route, but sure enough as he thought it, a heavy oak door opened off to the side as if it had just appeared. A woman stepped out, dressed in bright, discordant colors. She glanced at Martin briefly before turning towards the man who stood in front of him and resting a pointed elbow against his shoulder. When she stood next to him, Martin couldn’t help but notice their similar height. A terrible energy seemed to radiate from the pair.

“Oh, he is precious,” the woman chimed in after a moment. She reached out to pinch Martin’s cheek firmly between her long, cold fingers. Martin jerked back, pushing her hand away from his face.

“Excuse me! I- “

Her voice interrupted his as she turned back to her companion. “Not quite your type though is he, Michael.” She said the name as if it never really belonged to this man in the first place.

The blonde, Michael he supposed, heaved a heavy sigh. “No, not normally, but we do find ourselves rather hungry these days. You should really come inside.” Long, pale fingers wrapped around Martin’s wrist and he let out a panicked laugh.

“No. No, thank you. I have places to be!” Martin pulled against his hand, unsure of what he would find through their door, but completely unwilling to find out. The panic had just about bubbled up into a call for help when he heard hurried footsteps that stopped just behind him and a warm arm wrapped solidly around his waist. He froze in place.

“There you are. I think we should be going now.” The voice beside him was deep and warm, a sharp contrast to those of the strangers in front of him, one of whom seemed to be glaring daggers while the other seemed vaguely amused. “I think you should both go too,” the stranger spoke again, this time his tone a little harsher. “Helen. Michael. You should go. Now.” There was a strange static surrounding his words. It made Martin’s ears buzz and his mind tingle. With a huff of annoyance, Michael was the first to turn and walk back through the way he came, followed closely by Helen. Once they were gone, Martin relaxed enough to turn his attention to his savior.

“Are you alright?” The man was looking down at him with concern, his eyes a bright, almost alarming green. He was tall, Martin noticed, rail thin and incredibly handsome. His hair, long and black, nicely framed the warm, brown skin of his face. A face that, despite the many odd circular scars across, it was very nice.

“Uhm,” Martin answered, and this new stranger licked his lip nervously. Martin was very aware of the arm still around his waist. Wow, they were standing kind of close, weren’t they? Martin felt his face heat. This was embarrassing. He opened his mouth to thank him but was quickly interrupted.

“Look,” the man said, glancing behind him hurriedly, “we don’t have much time at the moment. I’m being followed. Not by anything pleasant, and it would be best if you stayed close for now.” Martin glanced behind them where the fog that once clung to the walls and through the air seemed to gather, shapes twisting through it and forming what almost looked like people. No, looking closer, those were definitely people. Mouths on otherwise empty faces seemed to stretch into silent screams as they trudged nearer, their hands outstretched. Martin let out a strangled sound of terror, looking quickly back up at the man who stood beside him, but he’d already turned his attention to the rest of the dark alleyway before them.

“I need you to move with me and hold on tight. Try not to look down.” Before Martin could question him, they were sprinting down the cobblestone towards the open street far ahead. Martin’s legs moved as if on instinct. Taking their lead, whatever monsters lurked in the fog behind them shot forward, no longer ambling and shuffling across the ground but rather skimming across it at speeds Martin found worrying. In his distraction, it took several minutes before Martin realized his own feet no longer thudded against the stones as he ran. In fact, with each step they seemed to move further from the ground until they were high above it, level with the rooftops of his town. Instinctually, his legs folded in closer to him and he felt himself

begin to fall. The hand around his waist shifted, and in a moment, both his hands were being held tight.

“It’s alright,” the stranger told him. “I have you. I just need you to stretch out your legs. Just keep moving same as before.” He smiled then, a small upturn at the corner of his lips directed at Martin.

“Same as before!” Martin echoed, incredulous. “There’s nothing to walk on!” Despite his complaints, he relaxed his legs all the same. They moved through the air, Martin doing his best to look ahead and not down at the shops and people down below. Occasionally, he glanced over at the man who had saved him. Out of the dark down below, Martin could see him a little clearer. The hair Martin thought had all been dark before was now peppered with gray and moving softly around his face in the air. The gray suited him, Martin thought, even if he didn’t seem much older than himself. He wore a well-worn green jacket over a grey, neatly pressed button up. It was an awfully plain ensemble for a wizard. If that’s what he was anyway. The only piece of any interest came in the form of his jewelry which was beaded and resembled three little eyes, one on either ear and one large and hanging from a chain around his neck.

A familiar rooftop came into view, and before long, Martin was being carefully lowered onto the balcony outside his flat. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Martin felt the warm pressure of the hands holding his pull away and frowned slightly at the loss of contact. Martin was keenly aware of the lack of attractive men holding his hands just in his day to day. Of course, it would be much nicer under less anxiety-inducing circumstances. Where before, Martin’s savior had seemed suave and mysterious, without imminent danger he just looked nervous, hands pulled in tight to his body and fingers fidgeting with nothing to hold onto.

“I should be going,” he spoke up after a minute. “You…uh… you probably shouldn’t go back out tonight. Seems like the lonely’s men are everywhere nowadays and, well, they tend to latch onto people.” He mumbled something under his breath about being an easy target and began to backtrack as soon as he realized Martin might have heard him. “Not that I think you’re an easy target! It’s just. Well. Hmm. You don’t want the consequences of being caught up with them. Just give it a bit before you go out on your own.” With this, he turned to step from the balcony’s railing and before Martin had a chance to say anything, he was just gone. Poof. Like he’d never been there at all.

Martin stared at the empty air, some mixture of concerned and confused. Finally, the cold night air got to him and he made his way back inside. His flat was in the same state of disarray he’d left it that morning, and he thought briefly to himself that it was good he didn’t have any unexpected guest tonight. He kicked his shoes off and dropped his jacket onto the back of the couch on his way to the kitchen. After the night he’d had, he needed a nice hot cup of tea and a lie down. His kitchen was a mess of unwashed dishes from last night’s dinner and unsorted groceries from the day before. Usually, Martin didn’t have trouble keeping his space clean, his mother expected it of him really, but he’d been so busy lately. He just didn’t have it in him. He started up the kettle and was digging through the cabinets for a mug when his groceries caught his eye, and suddenly he remembered why he’d been out to begin with. In all the chaos, he’d completely forgotten to get his mother’s groceries. He really hadn’t even had the chance.

With a loud groan, Martin buried his head in his hands. “Fuck.” It was the one thing he needed to do tonight, and he hadn’t even managed that. It wasn’t like his mum would be

entirely out of groceries, and someone should have been by already to make her dinner. It shouldn’t be a big deal if her groceries wait one more day. He knew it would be though. Every little fuck up with his mum was a major disaster, some terrible crime he’d purposefully inflicted just on her. “Ugh fuck me. Fuck.” He needed to at least call and let her know now. Maybe she would get the screaming out over the phone and he wouldn’t have to deal with it when he brought her groceries tomorrow. He’d much rather put up with some passive aggressive silence the next day than an absolute blow up.

Forgetting his tea, Martin pushed his feet into his house shoes and pulled his jacket back on. If he wanted to call her, he’d have to go back down to the shop and use the phone behind the desk. He’d always meant to buy himself one of his own but had never gotten around to it. Besides, he never really had anyone to call. The trek down to the shop was short, but cold, any potential warmth from earlier today had left with the sun. This time, more awake, Martin was quick to unlock the door and slip inside. He didn’t bother with the overhead lights, switching a few lamps on as he passed them. He hoped he wouldn’t be here for long.

Martin had just picked up the phone and begun to dial his mom’s number when the bell above the door jingled pleasantly. Martin’s brow furrowed. That’s funny, he thought he’d locked it behind him. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten something though, clearly. He set the phone down and turned back to the door. In it, a man stood looking off to the side at a display of hats. He was tall and sturdy looking. Everything about him seemed washed out from his pale skin to his gray eyes and the white hair on his head. He must have been a sailor, Martin gauged by his outfit, from the next town over. It didn’t matter who he was, Martin was busy and the shop long past closed.

“Excuse me, sir.” The man looked up but avoided Martin’s eyes. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed. I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

The man looked away again, fingering the brim of the nearest hat. “Bright in here don’t you think?” His voice was quiet but younger than Martin initially expected. “All the colors, I mean. The lamplight is quite nice.”

“I-yes, well it is a hat shop. Lots of different customers to please.” Martin stepped out from behind the desk and made his way to the front door. He held it open and swept a hand out as if to say, ‘after you.’ “Really though, I am going to have to ask you to leave. In case you couldn’t tell by- Oh, I don’t know- the lights being out and no one else coming and going, we’re closed for the night.”

“Awfully rude, aren’t we? I hope you don’t treat all your customers like that.” He paused, contemplating or at least pretending to. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

No, Martin thought, he didn’t know and right now he didn’t particularly care. He’d dealt with enough since waking up this morning, he didn’t need some self-important customer adding to his stress after hours. He squared his shoulders, standing up a little straighter. “Leave now.”

“No, I didn’t think so,” he replied airily. “You can call me Peter, but you may also know me as the lonely. I’ll go,” he paused, a finger to his lips, “but first, I think there’s a lesson in order here.”

“Excuse me?” Martin didn’t know what kind of threat that was supposed to be or really how to respond to it. He did know he was growing less and less comfortable being alone with him here. He wondered briefly how long it would take police to arrive should he call them, but

the thought died out as the man moved to the door. Oh, he was leaving after all then. The man walked briskly past him, his sharp gray eyes meeting Martin’s own for the first time. Martin backed away some, but the man made no moves towards him. Instead, as he passed, Martin shuddered hard, his body strangely and suddenly chilled to the bone. For just a moment, he felt as heavy as lead and then the sensation subsided, leaving him lightheaded.

“Do say hello to the archivist for me,” the man tipped his cap and promptly slammed the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I really told myself I wouldn't read/write any fic for this show HA! I'm a sucker for a good Howl's Moving Castle AU. Its that sweet sweet found family. Anyway, thank you so much for reading. Comments are always appreciate, and I try to respond to them as they come! You can find me on tumblr @Cantripconundrum if you're interested in what I'm up to! This chapter was beta read by @twillos on tumblr. 
> 
> PS: I found out a few days after writing and editing this that someone else has been working on a Howl's Moving Castle AU, but I had already put the work and fun into writing this chapter and didn't want to feel that go to waste! I hope you can still enjoy!


End file.
